


Small World

by Ren (FahRENheit2006)



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, First Meetings, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Original Character(s), Revenants, Sister-Sister Relationship, Slow Build, Supernatural Elements, Swapping points of view
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2018-12-17 00:41:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11840418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FahRENheit2006/pseuds/Ren
Summary: Wherein our buddy Jeremy finds himself a boyfriend in an unexpected place. Though he’s the last one to know.Intended to feel like an episode of the show contained in one story. Full of Revenants, action, snappy dialogue, a crazy pregnant chick with a gun, one weird dude who is more than he seems, and a little bit of cute Wayhaught. (Jammed into the middle of the season 2 timeline, maybe 2x06/07 or so before the real shit-show begins)





	1. Nicole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone on Tumblr was like “where’s the mlm love for Jeremy?” That seems fair, yea?
> 
> First impression: Nicole.
> 
> Calamity Jane is sick and there's only one vet in town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sure, the Purgatory crew has become an awesome family for Jeremy Chetri. Better than the stiffs at BBD ever were. Doc and Dolls are definitely nice to look at… But it can still be kinda lonely. It’s too big a world to be alone forever, right?

Lifting up her foot, Nicole Haught swore an expletive under her breath. Just as she had suspected, her sock had sank into a wet, messy hairball. It was four in the morning. Too early for this shit.

“Calamity Martha Jane! When I find you, I’m gonna **kill** you!” Nicole growled at the house. She sighed in resignation as she pulled off the sock, tossed it into the sink then reached for the paper towels and floor cleaner.

A pitiful meow came from the bathroom.

Shaking her head, Nicole scooped up the mess. “Of course I know it’s you. You’re the only cat here.”

Another meow.

“This is the third time this week, you brat. Don’t make me put you on a diet.” _Though that’s assuming the only Safeway in Purgatory carries more than one kind of cat food._

A long silence before an answering, wailing meow. That made Nicole stop her angry scrubbing. It was very unlike Calamity Jane.

Come to think of it, this many hairballs was **also** unlike Calamity Jane. Even with long, thick fur like hers.

Dropping her brush, Nicole padded over to the bathroom. The hallway hardwood was searing cold on her uncovered foot, forcing her to hop and skip to minimize the chill. After all, she was still hoping to get back to sleep once this was all cleaned up.

That hope disappeared when she found a ginger cat flopped on the floor, mewing in misery. Nicole scooped up her baby, carried her to the sink and twisted the knob for cold water. CJ could never resist running tap water. Except she just sniffed at it disinterestedly and cried again.

 _Shit_.

Anxiety flared in Nicole’s chest and she had to take several deep breaths through her nose.

 _It’s fine. It’s fine. She’ll be fine,_ she told herself. Leaving the cat next to the sink, Nicole sprinted for her phone in her bedroom and started a Google search for local veterinarians.

Unsurprisingly, there was only one in Purgatory. There tended to be only one of anything in Purgatory.

It didn’t even have a name, just “Animal Clinic” on Miller next to the hardware store. Unfortunately, the place was only open two days a week. Fortunately, one of those days happened to be today.

_Office hours: 10:00AM to 2:00PM? What the hell?_

At least Nicole had the day off. She was supposed to go meet Waverly at the Earp Homestead at noon. Waverly wanted to talk nursery colors with her big sister and she needed reinforcements to keep Wynonna from “noping” her way out of the house to avoid said conversation. And for as pregnant as she was, Wynonna was still pretty damn spry. Nicole considered bringing handcuffs. Just in case.

Slipping the nearby coffee pot under the already running sink, Nicole sighed. She knew she wasn’t getting back to sleep any time soon. She rubbed at her cold foot before stroking Calamity Jane.

_Hang on, baby kitty._

* * *

At 9:55AM, Nicole was already waiting in the street outside “Animal Clinic,” squad car steaming as it idled. Occasionally there was a sad meow from the cat carrier in the passenger seat, but otherwise Calamity Jane was being surprisingly cooperative (considering she hated the damn carrier). Another point of anxiety for Nicole that something was seriously wrong with her cat.

When 10:01AM rolled around, Nicole hefted the hard case and headed for the glass door with a faded logo. A sign hanging there still said CLOSED. She tried the handle. It didn’t budge.

_Shit._

She knocked on the glass. Then knocked again. No answer.

Cradling her arm over the glass to peer in, the waiting room was dark.

 _Shit!_  

A louder, more desperate knock this time. There was a flicker of light in the doorway opposite the entrance. A silhouette stumbled forward. Nicole knocked one more time just to be sure she had whoever’s attention.

“Yea yea I hear you” was muttered from the other side of the door. After a few clicks, the deadbolt twisted and the glass door opened a crack.

“Yea?”

Nicole stared back. 

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting from the Only Vet in Purgatory. Maybe some sort of grizzled James Herriot-type in a cowboy hat who’d been doing this for 50 years. Certainly not the man who stood before her.

Police profiling took over in her mind. 

_Asian male. Late 20s. 5’9. 170lbs. Long black hair in a ponytail. Brown eyes. Facial hair. Medium build. Blue scrubs. Red Chuck Taylors. Tie-dye dew rag. Eyes bloodshot. Smelled like marijuana._

He squinted at Nicole, the morning sun at her back. A white stick poked out of the corner of his mouth and a half-empty cup of coffee was in hand. He smelled somehow sour, bitter and sweet all at once.

Nicole offered tentatively, “Uh… is this—are you… open?”

“What time is it?” He pulled out a pocket watch from his hip and looked down at it. He shook it a couple times before tucking it away. “Uh yea... Yea, we’re probably open.”

But the young man just stood there, half in the doorway, half in a daze.

Lifting up the cat carrier, Nicole tried again. “I… tried calling to make an appointment. But I don’t think your phone is working.” 

He gave a dry, lazy laugh. “Oh yea! Yea, forgot to pay the bill. Man, that’s been like months. Didn’t even know it was still listed.”

 _Please don’t let this pothead be the vet._  

“So…” Nicole drummed on the carrier, already done with the conversation.

“So…” he echoed, eyes bleary with confusion.

“…Can I come in? I think my cat is sick. And probably needs her vaccinations, too.”

There was a glow of dawning realization in his eyes as he broke out in a wide grin. “Oh! Oh yea! Come in!”

With the door held open for her, Nicole pushed past the man into what amounted to a small waiting room. The front desk had a pile of computer parts (no monitor) and stacks of paperwork while the rest of the lobby was lined with wooden benches peeled of paint. There were attempts at artwork to spruce the place up, but picture frames were leaned against the floor having never made it on the walls.

Nicole had a very bad feeling, but tried to quiet herself from being too judgmental.

_Small town small town small town…._

He swept over to the opposite doorway so Nicole awkwardly followed behind. A cramped room with more peeling blue paint, but it had a waist-tall island counter with a sink. This felt more like a vet clinic patient room, though not by much.

Another lazy question. “I don’t know you, do I?” He pulled on the stick in his mouth to reveal a half-eaten Tootsie-roll Pop (grape-flavored). After downing the rest of his coffee, he tucked the sucker back in his cheek and leaned over the sink to wash his hands.

“I… haven’t been here before if that’s what you mean. Neither has CJ—Calamity Jane.” Nicole gestured with the cat carrier, where an alarmed meowing had started.

_Here we go. Hang on, baby kitty._

He stopped in mid-scrub, his eyes flying wide. “Dude! Your cat’s name is Calamity Jane?!” His nose wrinkled and he gave an approving nod. “That’s so awesome!”

“I’m Nicole. Nicole Haught,” she offered with an outstretched hand. 

He grinned and shook it with enthusiasm, but only stared back.

She gritted her teeth. “And you are?”

“Oh! Yea, people call me Bo. You can call me Bo, too.” 

“Is the doctor here yet?” Nicole hoped against all hope that Bo was just an assistant.

Bo tugged at his scrubs, then swore under his breath. There was a pair of holes at his collarbone, presumably where a pinned nametag was supposed to be. “Uh yea. That’s me. Doctor Bo if you’re feelin’ fancy. Just Bo is fine, though.”

 _Shit shit shit shit shit_  

Patting the counter, Bo dug around in one of the drawers. “So what’s her deal?”

Gritting her teeth again, Nicole set CJ on the counter. A low rumbling hiss could be heard inside the case. “She’s been throwing up hairballs. Third one this week. And she doesn’t really like men, is there a female doctor or—?” Nicole asked hopefully.

“Shit, that sucks,” Bo said as he continued digging around. “And nah, just me.”

“You might want to wear gloves or something,” Nicole warned.

“Nah, I got it.”

Before Nicole could react, Bo opened up the little metal gate and stuck a bare hand in. She held her breath, waiting for the hissing and scratching to start. There was a briefly startled meow, but otherwise silence.

He didn’t say anything, just stared at the carrier a moment. His arm was hidden up to the elbow. Nicole had a brief fear that this man had just strangled her cat. She leaned down the sides to pop off the hard top so she could be sure.

Inside the carrier, Bo’s hand was barely touching Calamity Jane. The ginger cat was pressed up against the side, her back arched and eyes wide. But she didn’t move, just stared ahead. His fingertips just gently touched the sides of her face and neck, a thumb at her whiskers. He was silent a moment then retracted his hand. CJ’s posture softened and she settled into a sitting position.

_What the hell?_

“Man, you need to get a new vibe in your house, Nicole. Calamity Jane is stressed **out** ,” Bo emphasized with a bark. He started washing his hands again.

“Is that—is that it? No X-ray or anything?”

“Nah. Get her more wet food, maybe that tuna stuff with like the little gravy bits?” Bo made a wriggling motion with his fingertips. “That shit is tight. She’ll like it. Tell ‘em Bo sent you. 10 cents off 10 cans or more.” He snapped his fingers before pulling out his sucker and pointing it at the cat. “Oh! And one of those little Neko flies. She’ll love that shit. I can get you one if you want. Safeway doesn’t carry ‘em, even though I offered like a million times to hook ‘em up.” He rolled his eyes.

Nicole was at a loss, but relief started to trickle in. Her baby kitty was going to be all right. “Uh sure. Sure. That would be fine.”

He smiled and went back to digging around in the drawer before pulling out a clear stick with a long cord. At the end of the cord dangled a fake dragonfly. CJ made a clicking noise deep in her throat as her pupils dilated. She made a lunge for the toy.

Bo laughed and played with the cat for a few moments, watching her tail swish and claws stretch out. He passed the toy over to Nicole with a smile, hands on his hips in satisfaction.

“So…” Nicole prodded. “…Can I get those vaccinations for her, too? While I’m here?”

Another enthusiastic “Oh yea!” as Bo headed for the back door and threw it open. She could see a narrow hallway crammed with medical equipment, though none of it looked used. He began rummaging in a mini-fridge at the far end and pulled out a pair of syringes before returning.

“Do you need her previous paperwork? I have it here.” Nicole rummaged in her large coat pocket for some folded forms from the city veterinarian she’d adopted Calamity Jane from. She’d had plenty of time this morning to dig through her house for the documents.

“Nah. She’s healthy. What, like three and a half years old or so?” Bo crunched on the sucker in his mouth loudly before pulling out the naked stick and dropping it in the trashcan.

Nicole nodded suspiciously. _How did he know that from one small touch?_

Bo grinned and his fingers worked fast. A few smooth motions later (and no complaints from the patient), Calamity Jane got immunized then curled up in the cat carrier. It was the best behaved she’d ever been at a vet, Nicole noted.

A cell phone rang. Nicole tried to place Bo’s ringtone, but it was a strange pulsing techno tune. He sighed before answering, the needles spinning in his knuckles rather dangerously.

What followed was a rapid-fire conversation in what Nicole assumed was Mandarin Chinese. Bo seemed on the defensive, gesturing wildly at the ceiling. A couple of phrases seem to repeat over and over, but she didn’t have the knowledge to hazard even a guess. She did notice that he had an ear piercing in his left ear, a strange industrial bar bell in the shape of a green snake.

At the end of the conversation, it seemed Bo had lost whatever debate he was having. He got quieter and sighed, nodding in resignation. He gave another loud sigh as he hung up before rubbing his eyes. Bo continued distractedly spinning the syringes on his knuckles.

Pulling out her wallet, Nicole looked around the empty office to avoid violating his privacy further. She passed over her credit card to place a thumb on a pair of folded $20s. “Um, how much do I owe you?”

A very inelegant “Huh?” from Bo as he pitched the empty needles in an overflowing medical waste bin. He stared at her a second and then snapped his fingers. “Oh yea! I dunno, like $50?”

Nicole frowned as she pulled out the money. “I’ve only got $40. Do you take credit cards?”

His hand surged forward and snapped up the cash. “Nah. $40 is fine.” Bo pocketed it with a lazy grin and wiped his hands on his scrubs. Nicole noticed they had a tiny repeating pattern of cowboy hats all over the powder-blue fabric.

Thanking him for his services, Nicole hefted Calamity Jane. She could still pick up lunch for Waverly and Wynonna before going to the Homestead if she hurried.

“Do you have a card or something? In case I need to make an appointment next time?”

She was sorry she had asked, because Bo turned his attention to the cluttered front desk and started pushing aside stacks of papers. Underneath what looked to be an old bagel, he grabbed at a handful of small cards. Thrusting one into her hand, Bo shooed Nicole out the door as he pulled out a small keyring. A small snake charm was noticeable on the collection of keys.

Nicole turned to thank Bo again, who stared up at the sky and frowned. She sort of wanted to ask, but decided to just smile politely. He pointed outside. “Is it supposed to rain today?” 

“Uh…” Nicole wasn’t sure how to answer that. She glanced down at her phone app, but only bright sun graphics illustrated the week. “I don’t think so?”

“When was the last time it rained?” He was checking the pocket watch again, which he shook in agitation.

She had to think for a moment before smiling sadly. “There was a lightning storm a few weeks ago. Pretty crazy. Burned out quick, though.”

_…Oh Waverly…_

“That doesn’t count,” Bo interrupted with a scowl. He tucked away the watch again, then cleared his throat. The throat clearing turned into a hacking cough, forcing Bo to spit dramatically on the ground. Nicole groaned inwardly and started to back away slowly toward her squad car.

Pulling out another Tootsie-roll Pop (orange this time), Bo slipped off the wrapper. His eyes widened when he saw her get into the Purgatory PD vehicle. “Hey! You’re a cop!”

“Yea,” Nicole retorted, mimicking his lazy voice while setting the cat carrier back in the passenger seat. She stuck the Neko fly cord into one of the air holes, which the ginger cat swiped at eagerly. She squared her shoulders before turning back to the young veterinarian.

“That’s awesome!” He grinned back. “Man, I bet you’ve got some awesome stories.”

 _To say the least._ She only nodded back. Nicole prayed there were no follow-up questions.

“Well, I’m usually makin’ house-calls during the week. But if you need somethin’ for that little spitfire, you lemme know.” Bo wiggled his fingers at the window to Calamity Jane. The cat ignored him.

Nicole nodded in affirmation as Bo staggered back to the clinic door, keys in hand. He locked the door from the outside and took off towards an old beat-up pickup with a tarp covering the bed. It looked to be filled with junk electronic parts. The engine fired up with a cough of smoke and rumbled off down the street.

“But… aren’t you supposed to be working today?” Nicole asked the empty street. She felt a surge of exasperation from the whole experience, but at least CJ seemed to not be seriously ill. And she probably wouldn’t even be late meeting Waverly.

Starting up her own car, Nicole glanced at the crumpled business card in her hand. 

“Dr. Bolin Yushi, DVM, Purgatory Animal Clinic.”

Something about that boy was not quite right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wrote this super quick to try something new. I don't usually do original characters, but I thought a very laid-back gent would offer an interesting perspective on the perpetually stressed/anxious Earp clan of miscreants, cops and Revenants. Different sort of energy, if you will.
> 
> Just a little original side story to play with.


	2. Waverly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second impression: Waverly.
> 
> Waverly is trying so, so hard to prepare for Baby Earp in spite of her sister. But that's super hard when a ritual animal slaughter catches BBD's eye and they have to scramble for a plan in case Revenants are behind it.

At the first soft knock at the front door, Waverly Earp sprang up from the couch and skipped over. Throwing the door open wide, she beamed at Nicole Haught standing on her porch. The redhead bore a pair of plastic bags as she kicked the snow off her boots.

Nicole greeted her with a dimpled smile. “Hey Waves.” She started to step inside the house, but Waverly intercepted her with a kiss (though Waverly had to stand on tip-toe to manage it).

“Ugh. Hey yourselves,” Wynonna growled from the entryway as she rolled her eyes. The older Earp sister tapped at Waverly’s shoulder to get her attention before eyeballing Nicole’s haul. “If one of those isn’t Chinese food: you can go, Haught. I don’t know if my oven or my bun needs it more. But one of us **will** kill you for it.”

Waverly broke away with a scowl at Wynonna, but shot Nicole a smile then stretched out a hand to help.

Holding up the left bag, Nicole deadpanned as she squinted at the sky to remember. “Gong Bao chicken with ‘enough hot sauce to nuke the Eastern seaboard.’” At Wynonna’s approving nod, Nicole continued, “Vegetarian potstickers for Waverly, and I got—“

“Don’t care! Thanks!” Wynonna yanked the sack out of Nicole’s hand and bounded off to the kitchen muttering, “Hang on, kid. Momma’s gettin’ you—and by extension, me—the good stuff.”

Nicole rolled her eyes as she reached into her large coat pocket for a small plastic pint with a sealed top. She whispered to Waverly with a wink, “And one sweet and sour soup with peanut butter.”

“See? This is why you’re the best,” Waverly cooed as she accepted the steaming cup. She then backed up to hold the door open for Nicole.

Shaking an arm out of her heavy jacket, Nicole handed the other bag to Waverly who looped her wrist through the straps. “In bag number two: I cleaned out the hardware store of paint chips, plus a couple ‘new mother’ magazines and some fabric samples. Needless to say, Betty at Safeway has a **lot** of questions that I was **not** prepared to answer... But she wishes me luck with my ‘new bundle of joy.’” Nicole dipped her chin to give Waverly a serious look after setting her coat on a nearby hook.

Waverly laughed. “Congratulations! You and Wynonna can decorate together then! Cop-blue for you… and probably bourbon-brown knowing Wynonna.” She laughed again at Nicole’s panicked expression before patting her girlfriend’s arm. “It’s fine. I’ll start the Pinterest board and we’ll go from there.”

Nicole sighed in mock-frustration, but smiled back. They both met Wynonna in the kitchen as the Earp sister was digging into a Styrofoam container filled with reddish-brown chunks of chicken over rice, the whole dish coated in angry red chiles. The woman was using her hands to pluck out glistening bites of chicken and whined with resentment when Waverly jammed a pair of chopsticks between her fingers.

“So this first planning session of Baby Earp will now come to order,” Waverly announced to the table, mouth half-full of potsticker. Nicole tapped a “hear hear” on the table while Wynonna sulked (but continued stuffing her face).

Meeting Wynonna’s gaze, Waverly crossed her arms. “You need to start taking this seriously, sis. Just let me plan something for you for **once**. I’m pretty frickin’ good at it. Otherwise you’re gonna end up sending birth announcements on gas station postcards for ‘Donut Whiskey Earp.’”

The older sister chewed loudly while grinning. “Ooo, I like it. Gender neutral, too.” She started patting her belly and baby-talking sarcastically. “Who’s a little rebel that doesn’t conform to society’s bullshit gender norms and naming conventions? …You are, little Donut!”

“Oh hey, before we start...” Nicole interrupted. “You guys know anything about the vet?”

“I think we’re all veterans of a war, Haught. I could really go for a parade… and a little shore leave. If you know what I mean,” Wynonna said with a wink and a suggestive clicking noise out of the corner of her mouth. She elbowed at Nicole, before looking over to Waverly and her grin turned into a cringe when she realized what she was implying. Waverly glared back at her sister.

Nicole sighed. “Not **a** vet. **The** vet? The veterinarian in town? Dr. Yushi?”

A mental directory of Purgatorians ran through Waverly’s head. She finally settled on a mental image of an Asian dude in God-awful guitar scrubs helping her get a good deal on some (terrible) bubblegum sake. “You mean Bo?”

 Wynonna chimed in. “Stonin’ Bolin? That guy became a **doctor?** ” She made an impressed noise in the back of her throat. “There’s hope for me yet.”

“Yea. I took my cat to see him this morning for a check-up. Does he seem… weird to you?”

“Weird how?” Waverly asked.

“Weird like… your weird,” Nicole said while gesturing at Wynonna’s belt hanging over her chair, Peacemaker sticking out of its holster. “Supernaturally weird.” She paused. “Maybe Revenant weird?”

Wrinkling her nose, Waverly looked over at Wynonna for confirmation. “I don’t think so. Didn’t he go to high school with you?” Wynonna shrugged back unhelpfully so Waverly continued, “But not impossible, I guess? I think I remember him dropping out of school cuz of some family thing, though that was like 10 years ago. But the Yushi family has been around Purgatory since before Wyatt came to town, so maybe?”

Nicole stared at Waverly, an impressed smile on her face. Waverly gave a nonchalant shrug. “What? I read a lot of history.” She leaned towards Nicole, hand cupping her mouth. “Plus—and I don’t know if you know this—but I kind of know almost everyone in town.” Waverly demonstrated her famous smile-and-wave for emphasis.

“I had no idea,” Nicole retorted with faux seriousness before beaming with pride at Waverly.

Wynonna broke up their little moment by flicking a peanut at her sister. “What makes you think Bo is ‘our’ weird, Nicole?”

“It’s hard to explain? He did some weird cat whispering with Calamity Jane and kept asking me if it was supposed to rain.” Nicole paused, thoughtful. “I don’t know. That seems stupid when I say it out loud. I guess just… trust me. Something was off. Not necessarily bad, but off.”

A cell phone on the table suddenly vibrated, a suggestive hip-hop song as a ringtone.

Waverly grabbed another potsticker and smiled sweetly at Wynonna. “Dolls?”

“Shut up,” Wynonna hissed as she answered, though her demeanor switched to awkward but pleased. “Hey! …hey. What’s—what’s up?” She nodded her head with a few “Uh huhs” before hanging up. Pushing out of her chair, Wynonna started buckling the Peacemaker holster to her pants. “It’s been fun, kids. But Momma’s gotta go to work.”

Exasperation bubbled in Waverly’s chest, her voice high-pitched. “You’re leaving already?! But… I had an agenda!” She gestured to the binder sitting on the kitchen counter where multi-colored tabs peeked out of the edges.

One last bite of chicken as Wynonna wiped her fingers on her shirt. “Relax. Donut is still gonna be here. It’s just a little ritual animal slaughter.”

Nicole started to stand up, too. “Need some back-up?” She looked to Waverly for support.

“Nah, take the day off Haught.” Wynonna’s eyes narrowed when she saw the look Nicole and Waverly exchanged. “On second thought… We might need your big Revenant brain for this, sis.”

She winced slightly at the “Revenant brain” comment, but Wynonna didn’t notice. Nicole did, though Waverly gave a barely perceptible headshake to leave it alone. Nicole didn’t say anything, but Waverly felt a warm hand cover hers under the kitchen table in reassurance.

Waverly was torn between staying in with Nicole and being included on a case. The whole Black Badge outfit had been treating her with kid gloves since the whole “demonic possession” thing and it was starting to get on her nerves.

_Plus, it **would** give me a chance to trap Wynonna into actually making some damn decisions about her damn nursery. Even if she **is** only asking to keep me and Nicole apart._

Chewing on her lip a moment, Waverly wiggled in her seat a little then stood up. “Okay. I’ll go with you.” She turned to Nicole, face scrunched in apology. “…I promise I’m not keeping you out. It probably won’t take that long?” 

Nicole raised an eyebrow before a smile curled the corner of her mouth. “It’s okay, Waves. I should probably check in on Calamity Jane and make sure she’s doing okay. Go. Have some sister time.” She stood to gather up her own lunch. As she leaned over to kiss Waverly’s cheek, Nicole whispered in her ear, “…she’s not serious about Donut Earp, is she?”

“God, I hope not,” Waverly whispered back before drawing Nicole into a kiss.

It took longer than Waverly thought ( _hoped_ ) it would for Wynonna to interrupt with an impatient throat-clearing from the front door. Waverly promised to call Nicole later before bundling up in her own coat and following her sister into the bright Purgatory afternoon sky.

* * *

A familiar black SUV was already waiting at the scene when the Earp sisters rolled up in Waverly’s Jeep. Deputy Marshal Xavier Dolls was deep in conversation with an upset farmer. Both men kept throwing intense looks over a low wooden fence surrounding a small barn.

Wynonna bounded out of the passenger door and made a beeline for the barn fence while Waverly trailed behind. She hated seeing dead animals. Growing up, Waverly had always stayed away when Uncle Curtis or Aunt Gus butchered their livestock or dressed hunting kills. She braced herself mentally, trying to think happy thoughts.

_Nicole. Wynonna. Gus. Her favorite necklace. The flavor of her favorite tea. Nicole. Doc when he isn’t being a dick. Dolls when he isn’t being a dick. Her Michael Kors purse that she got a kickass deal on. Nicole…_

It wasn’t as bad as Waverly had feared, peering over that fence. A trio of goats were spread around the pen, laying on their sides. There wasn’t any over-the-top gore or dismemberment to steel herself from. If she didn’t know the goats were dead, Waverly would have assumed they were sleeping.

Dolls waved Wynonna and Waverly towards the pen gate. He smiled warmly at Wynonna, his eyes lingering for a second too long. He cleared his throat when he saw Waverly smiling obviously him. “Three goats drained of blood in the middle of the night. A little too sophisticated for bored teenagers or a pissed-off neighbor. I’m thinking ritual sacrifice. The number three is significant, too, and—”

A distant car door slamming drew their attention back to the farmer’s driveway. A beat-up pickup truck had parked, half-covered in tarp. Strolling over was Dr. Bolin Yushi, DVM, Purgatory Animal Clinic. He was dressed in powder-blue scrubs and red Converse shoes. A tie-dye dew rag on his head was mostly obscured by a large pair of Beats headphones. Bo shuffled up, nose-deep in the Farmer’s Almanac he was holding. 

“Who is that?” Dolls demanded. Wynonna and Waverly exchanged a confused glance.

As Bo approached, Waverly could head a tinny bass beat from his headphones, a testament to just how loud the man had his music cranked up. She tried to study Bo from Nicole’s perspective, but he looked just as ordinary as the last time Waverly had seen him _. Still in God-awful scrubs, too._

Dolls cleared his throat and started to step in front to block Bo’s path. But the veterinarian wasn’t paying attention and heavily body-checked Dolls’ shoulder. Dropping his book, Bo stumbled back in surprise. He glanced around blearily as he bent down to pocket the Almanac, and started to shout a greeting before realizing his headphones were still on.

“ **HEY!** …hey.” Bo’s grin was lazy through week-old scruff. “Aw, shit man. Sorry about that. Wasn’t lookin’. We good?” He gave a playful slap to Dolls’ chest which turned into an appraisal. “Dang bro, what’s your max?”

Dolls only glared back, sizing up the newcomer (and he did not seem to like what he saw). Waverly had to suppress a laugh by biting her tongue.

Bo’s eyes lit up when he saw Wynonna next to Dolls. “Holy shit, dude! Wynonna! Wynonna Earp!” He rushed over as he rested his headphones around his neck. “Man, I haven’t seen you in, what, 10 years? Your fight with Buck Edmonds in the cafeteria is still on my top ten greatest hits of Purgatory.” Bo pointed at his temple with a guttural laugh.

Waverly whispered accusingly in her sister’s ear, “…that was **you?!** The Great PHS Lunch Tray Brawl was you?! Buck is still missing teeth from that!”

Shaking her head, Wynonna hissed back under her breath with an elbow to Waverly’s side. “ **Later** , Waverly. **Later**.”

Bo shot finger guns at Waverly with a bark. "Wave- **eeee!** " He leaned in, grinning. "How'd that sake work out for ya?"

She wrinkled her nose to think of a tactful way to answer, but settled on "Terrible."

He slapped his knee with a laugh. "I know, right! But that shit was an **experience** , right? Lemme know if you want somethin'—"

A loud throat clearing as Dolls pushed between Wynonna and Bo. “You’re not authorized to be here.”

Bo pointed a finger at the farmer. “Mr. Ferguson called me in. Hey Ferg! Sorry about your goats! I can call my guy if you want a couple new ones?” Pulling a phone from his pocket, Bo waved the device to accent his question. At Mr. Ferguson’s head shake, he put the phone away.

Waverly touched Dolls’ wrist since she could tell he about was two seconds from blowing his stack ( _figuratively, but also possibly literally_ ). “Psst! Maybe he can tell us what happened to the animals?”

Quietly sighing, Dolls nodded at Waverly and opened the gate. “Care to enlighten us on what killed these goats, Mister…?”

“Oh! Yea!” Bo dug around in his breast pocket and presented a heavily folded business card with his vet license number on it. “Just call me Bo.”

“Deputy Marshal Dolls,” Xavier said crisply, presenting his credentials.

Bo waved his hands in mock-respect. “Whoa, government types. Awesome. It’s like the X-Files!” As Bo passed by, he whispered to Waverly, “…Though he seems more like a Scully than a Mulder.” She snorted.

Bending down to examine the closest body, Bo pulled out some hand sanitizer before scrubbing. Instead of putting on gloves, he just gently ran fingertips over the goat’s face and neck with the barest brushing against the fur. “Couple of puncture wounds at the neck. This guy went second.” Bo stood up and looked at the other three. He pointed at the corpse nearest the barn. “That kid got hit first, scared the rest to run out here. Probably took 20 minutes to bleed out. More than one predator, though.”

“What makes you say that?” Dolls asked.

Bo gestured at the small pen. “There would be tons more tracks if they’d had to circle the pen waiting for one thing to hunt ‘em down. Or Ferg woulda heard his goats breaking down the fence. They probably all got hit at once.” He paused before his eyes lit up. “You think it’s a chupacabre?? I’ve always wanted to see one. It would be kickass to see three. Or a vampire would be pretty crazy, too.”

As the veterinarian wandered to the far side of the pen, Dolls turned to Waverly and Wynonna. “So. Someone really wanted some goat blood. Question is: who and why?”

“Think there’s anything to that chupacabre thing?” Wynonna asked with a grin as she patted Peacemaker. “Because that would be kinda rad.”  At Waverly’s huff, Wynonna amended, “Rad **awful** … is what I meant.”

Waverly felt a hand on the small of her back pushing her forward with a muttered, “You’re up, buttercup. Any suspects in your Revenant Rolodex?” Wynonna eyed her curiously.

Pulling up her phone, Waverly thumbed through the mobile database she’d been setting up (with Nicole and Jeremy’s help). Much handier than boxes of newspaper clippings and photocopies from the library. “Well, I mean, if we’re talking a demon… we might need to ask Jeremy. There are way too many possibilities. Animal blood is kind of Demon 101.”

“Demons would have ripped those corpses to shreds, too,” Dolls interjected. His hand stroked his chin thoughtfully. “This seems purposeful. If they didn’t just straight up drink it, they’re using blood **for** something.”

That triggered something in Waverly’s mind. She had to dig through a couple of different keywords before she found a promising lead. “This could be something. A former city councilman named Ulysses Thatcher used to paint the doors of newcomers and immigrants with goats’ blood as a warning. Some sort of hyper-religious thing to purge their doorsteps of impurity.”

“Charming,” Wynonna said with a disgusted cringe.

“That’s not all,” Waverly continued. Her stomach always did a small churn when she dug into these details. Mostly because she knew history was keen on repeating itself in Purgatory ( _over and over again_ ).

Wynonna groaned. “It never is.”

“He and a couple of cousins graduated from painting doors to strangling families on their doorsteps at sundown. Starting with the mothers who ‘birthed these thieves on our shores.’” Her nose wrinkling in disgust, Waverly sighed. She didn't feel like reading any more from the xenophobic manifesto of Ulysses Joseph Thatcher if she could help it.

Wynonna flicked a strand of hair out of her eyes and ran a finger along her revolver. “I’m guessing that drew the attention of a certain relative with a certain big-ass gun.”

Waverly nodded. “Yup. Wyatt took the cousins down first but the esteemed Mister Thatcher tried to run. Snagged one more victim before Wyatt put him in the ground.”

“And now he’s back, blah blah blah, continuing the ‘good work,’ blah blah blah,” Wynonna deadpanned as she turned to Dolls. “Whaddya think, Dolls? Split up staking out newcomers in case this pans out and sic the reinforcements on research if it doesn’t?”

Dolls threw a glance at Waverly, but shockingly did not object to her theory. “Seems solid. We can probably gather a list of potential victims from recent housing sale records.”

“And Nicole!” Waverly chimed in. “She mentioned Nedley’s been having her make housecalls to try and smooth over all the craziness from the Wainwright incident. I bet she might have some ideas, too.” A warm feeling spread through Waverly’s chest when Dolls nodded in agreement. She wanted to make sure Nicole felt included in this weird post-BBD situation they were all in.

Pulling out his car keys, Dolls checked his watch. “All right. Let’s see if we can track down Ulysses Thatcher and company ASAP. Either we eliminate them as suspects or…”

“…Or they take their ‘Carrie’ show on the road in a couple hours,” Wynonna finished with a dry smile. “The fun kind. With fires and screaming and Prom.” She shuddered.

They agreed to regroup at Shorty’s to finalize a game plan with the whole team.

As Waverly headed for her Jeep with her phone in hand to text Nicole, she threw a glance back at the pen where Bo had been cleaning up the goats. She was surprised to see him staring at them. The stoner glaze to his eyes was clear and he studied Dolls with intensity. But when Bo’s gaze met Waverly’s, his expression returned to his usual lazy grin. He waved at her with his headphones before returning to his work.

 _Weird_. _That’s weird… right?_


	3. Dolls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Third Impression: Dolls.
> 
> The BBD crew is hot on the case of a trio of Revenants with a penchant for animal blood and strangulation. Will they actually be one step ahead of the bad guys for once?

At Shorty’s, a large map of Purgatory was unfolded across the pool table. Dolls, Wynonna and Doc hovered around it, while Jeremy was off to the side fiddling with his laptop to get a FaceTime of Waverly and Nicole working. 

“Hey Doc?” Jeremy asked sheepishly as the cowboy turned his head. “Any chance of getting better wi-fi in here? 5GHz? Dual-band at the very least!” When Doc shot him a confused head tilt, Jeremy immediately redacted his request. “It’s fine. It’s perfect! I like the challenge, actually.” He trailed off when Doc turned away, muttering under his breath.

Xavier cleared his throat and slapped Jeremy on the shoulder, who jumped. “You got ‘em yet? We need to divide and conquer. There’s too much Purgatory to cover without a plan.”

“Yes… yes… no… uh no… yes… Yes… **YES!** ” Jeremy fist-pumped the air when the app finally connected. A pair of female faces appeared in the video window, the seatbacks of Nicole’s police cruiser visible around the edges. Jeremy set the laptop along the pool table rim and adjusted the screen for a vague view of the map.

[“—e good?”] Waverly chimed in, followed by a brisk question from Nicole. [“Where do you want us?”] There was a visible smirk from Waverly, but Dolls was distracted by Wynonna trying to shout something dirty in response.

Slapping Jeremy on the shoulder again, Dolls ordered, “Tell everyone what you found, Jeremy.”

“Right! …right.” The young scientist coughed quietly a few times then grabbed a couple of pieces of pool chalk from the wall. He set one on a grid of green east of town. “I ran a search on housing records based on the criteria Waverly gave us about the Thatcher gang. Thanks, by the way.”

[“You’re welcome!”] The younger Earp chirped back through the tinny speaker. 

Jeremy started gesturing nervously. “If this Revenant targets new families or immigrants—apropos of the recent political climate, by the way. That is some **serious** irony that—“

Wynonna slammed a fist on the pool table, causing the laptop to tremble. “Jeremy!”

He cleared his throat. “—right. So, meet the Derry family. Moved in three weeks ago from Iowa, nuclear family with a mom, dad and two kids, and they even have a small bit of livestock includiiiiiing…” Jeremy’s voice got knowingly sing-songy at the end. 

“Goats. We get it. What else?” Dolls sighed with impatience. 

A second piece of chalk was placed south of the Earp homestead by Jeremy. “Next potential victims: the Vito family fresh off the boat from Italy two weeks ago. Husband, wife, grandmother and one teenage son. No livestock, but making bids for farming in the spring.”

Stroking his chin, Dolls studied the map while Nicole responded. [“Got a third lead. Met a family at the station last week from Canada.”] She pulled up a small black flip-notebook and started listing off intel. [“Mitch and Dinah Barlow, parents, and 10-year-old son, Jacob, inherited a ranch northwest of Purgatory. Filled out a couple of hunting and fishing licenses. Needed help finding winter ranch hands to take care of sheep, goats and chickens.”]

“Good,” Dolls nodded gruffly. His anger spiked when he tried to get his face in camera view of Waverly and Nicole, but instead kept managing to get inverted and be off-screen. He gave up and raised his voice so they could hear. “You two sit on the Barlows, Doc and Jeremy can watch the Vito family, Wynonna and I will take the Derrys.”

Doc knocked his approval on the pool table edge. “A pre-emptive strike. I would rather enjoy being the hunter rather than the huntee as a **welcome** change of fortune.”

Another nod from Dolls. “Stay in constant radio contact. Carry weapons and potentially rope or zip-ties in order to restrain these Revenants so Wynonna can do her thing.” 

A smug clicking noise from the corner of Wynonna’s mouth as she spun Peacemaker on her finger. The was a loud clunk as the pistol slipped off and landed heavily on the pool table. She chewed her lower lip in annoyance before sweeping it into the holster on her belt with a sigh.

Checking his watch, Dolls made a revolving motion with his finger. “We’ve got three hours til sundown, which should be enough time to set up safe perimeters around the potential targets in case the Thatchers are casing the places, plus find a safe stakeout spot if they aren’t. Let’s move, people!”

Wynonna leaned over to whisper at Dolls’ back, ”You’re really sexy when you take charge.”

Dolls cleared his throat with a smile. He muttered under his breath, “Keep it in your pants. …literally.” He shot a significant glance at her gun. Wynonna mock-scowled as she adjusted her coat.

Before Jeremy closed the laptop, Waverly was visibly excited and wiggling in her seat. She toasted her thermos of coffee with Nicole before extending a two-finger salute to the camera. [“Aye-aye, Red Leader!”]

“No nicknames!” Dolls shouted back as he holstered his own pistol and started shoving strands of zip-ties in a small duffle bag.

There was a disappointed groan from the younger Earp before the app disconnected.

Dolls smirked at Jeremy trailing behind Doc. The young man’s mouth was a blur as he tried to talk, while Mister Holliday dumped a coil of rope and a shotgun in Jeremy’s arms and snapped his fingers to follow. “Make hay while the sun shines, boy! We have got ourselves a Revenant to pursue. And we will discuss proper hog-tie technique on the way over. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how soft your hands are.”

There was a brief surge of excitement on Jeremy’s face before the veiled insult registered. He mumbled something about how he’ll look it up on YouTube.

As Doc started towards the exit, Wynonna took a step in front of him. “No Rosita tonight?” Wynonna asked, though her blinking expression had an undercurrent of sharp sarcasm Dolls couldn’t quite interpret. 

Adjusting his hat, Doc glanced over at the swinging doors to Shorty’s kitchen. He shook his head. “She needs must man the bar while we are away, otherwise this fine establishment will wither on the vine.” Doc’s moustache twitched and his smile was a touch smug. “I shall pass along your sentiments—whatever they might be—to her should her presence be required. Unless you would prefer she accompany you and Deputy Dolls on your endeavors? I believe she would be a **fine** chaperone.” Blue eyes glittered in amusement.

The slow drawl of Doc’s cadence grated on Xavier’s nerves a little. He set a hand on Wynonna’s shoulder when she started to bite back with an insult. Leaning in close, Dolls whispered, “Let it go. We got this.”

The brunette pouted before hissing back, “I am **pregnant** and pissy and **trying** to pick a fight. And **you** … are getting in my way. Is that the side of the table you wanna be on, Dolls?” Wynonna glared a challenge, eyes unblinking, chin tilted upwards.

Dolls returned the stare for a few seconds before a slow smile crept in. “Get you your favorite stakeout food if you promise to wait til after we put down some Revenants.” 

Those blue eyes lit up, before narrowing suspiciously. Wynonna stabbed a finger into Dolls’ chest. “Tacos. Lots of them. All of them. And all the hot sauce. In a wheelbarrow.”

He could only grin back. “Sure. We’ll hit the drive-thru on the way over. Wheelbarrow and all.”

Wynonna fist-pumped and started to head out the front doors, but immediately stopped and turned around with a sigh. “Gotta pee first.”

Dolls didn’t even bat an eyelash. “See you out front.”

As he hefted his haul, Dolls had to shield his brow after stepping outside. A light rain had begun to fall, tiny pellets of sleet pinging against his black SUV a few feet away. He glanced at the sky where a gray haze of clouds spread across half the horizon.

_Hm. That’ll make this more difficult._

* * *

Outside the Derry farm, Dolls sipped his black coffee while the woman next to him crunched loudly on her eighth taco of the afternoon. The armrest was littered with wrappers and used hot sauce packets. Dolls had a suppress the urge to clean up.

_Eyes forward. Head clear._

That last part was difficult with his current stakeout partner, who had a gift for making Xavier’s head decidedly unclear.

After finishing her taco, Wynonna drummed her fingers on the dashboard of his SUV. Or fiddled with the windows. Or dug around in his glove compartment. Or zipped up then unzipped her jacket (because she was too cold or too hot, based on sighing).

“Are you okay?” Dolls asked.

“Better than okay, Dolls,” Wynonna said with a manic grin. “I feel really good about this one. Like we might actually **stop** these assholes before they hurt somebody for once. For **once.** ” She paused. “…or it’s the hormones kicking in. In that case, we’re about T-minus 15 minutes from me sobbing in the backseat over a cat picture on Reddit.” She showed him her phone, where there was indeed an image of a fluffy kitten curled up in a kleenex box.

 _Cute, even…_ (though Dolls would never say that out loud. He’d never hear the end of the teasing)

Dolls smiled into his coffee. “I’m hopeful, too. But… the goats could have been something else. This might be a goose chase and we’ll be back to square one tomorrow.” At Wynonna’s disappointed scoff, Dolls amended optimistically, “Or… we can strike a few more Revenants off the master list. It definitely would be nice to be right for a change.”

Rain pattered gently on the windshield, clouds spreading the sunset into swirls of dark orange and red across the sky. They were parked inside an outcropping of trees at the south end of the property, the Derry house visible via a quick binocular scan. Sparse trees littered the landscape immediately surrounding the plantation house, otherwise only fallow farmland was visible as far as the eye could see. A goat pen with a small barn stood off on the northernmost side of the property.

Line of sight on the house was clean and clear. Dolls and Wynonna were ready for any sign of movement.

Dolls’ hand crept across the armrest (over a couple of crinkling wrappers) to wrap around Wynonna’s fidgeting wrist. She stiffened for a moment, then adjusted her elbow so his fingers could thread through hers. They smiled at the floor, savoring the quiet for a few moments.

Wynonna’s phone rang, a peppy tune accompanied by a picture of Waverly. Their hands jerked apart at the interruption. After a swipe at the phone interface, Wynonna started to answer but jerked it away from her ear with a tap on Speaker.

A repeating shout came over the device. “—alls Balls **Balls** Balls Balls BALLS BALLS— **Wynonna!** We were all wrong!” 

_Dammit._

Wynonna shot Dolls a panicked frown. “Slow down! How do you know, babygirl?”

At the same time, Dolls asked, “Wrong about what?”

“Nicole was listening in to dispatch,” Waverly said breathlessly. “There was a 9-1-1 call from the O’Reilly Estate off Campbell and Birch. Reports of strange men painting their door, then trying to break in. Line went dead.”

There was background noise on the line, Nicole’s voice muffled by some official radio dispatch lingo. Waverly continued, “We’re on our way, but we’re on the other side of frickin’ Purgatory. You and Dolls are closest. Sheriff’s Department is still 20 minutes out… for what good they’ll do—oops! Sorry, honey! You know what I meant!” An amused scoff from Nicole.

Dolls already had the SUV surging into reverse, a mental map of Purgatory navigating through his mind.

Wynonna settled into her seat with a click of her seatbelt over her belly. “We’re on it, Waverly. And maybe Doc and Jeremy can come in from the other side to try and… box ‘em in or… something.” She shot Dolls a wide-eyed, uncertain headshake. “I dunno, some military maneuver. …figure it out! Anyway, keep us posted.”

“You too!” The line went dead. A few seconds later, there was a ping of a text message from Waverly with an address.

Wynonna’s thumbs tap-tapped at her phone, presumably to alert Team Jeredoc to the change in plan. The nervous drumming from earlier got increasingly violent just as Dolls turned the car onto the main thoroughfare and started barreling down the country road.

“…I know, Wynonna.” Dolls punched in the coordinates in his own phone as a stream of directions filtered into his earpiece.

“It’s just… God dammit, Dolls! I said it out loud! You never say that shit out loud!” Wynonna hissed before puffing a strand of hair out of her face.

“We were always taking a chance trying to anticipate a Revenant. But at least we might be close enough to make a difference instead of getting the call the next morning.”

“When did you become Mister Optimist?” Wynonna gently teased. “I like it, but I’m so used to all worst-case-scenarios all the time.” A beat of silence. “Oh shit, does this mean I’m becoming you? Because I do **not** have the patience for all those pushups. …how many pushups are we talking about?”

Dolls chuckled. “Ten.”

“Really??”

“No.”

A disappointed sigh.

As they sped down the road, Dolls swore he saw a flash of black in his side mirror. A figure. But just as quickly, the figure was gone in a spatter of frozen rain. His grip tightened on the steering wheel, an uneasy feeling growing in Xavier’s stomach.

_We’re being followed. But by who? Or what?_

The sleet intensified, turning the dusk’s orange-gray into a murky twilight. They were almost out of daylight, which would make their prey harder to track. Dolls made a hairpin turn onto a cattle trail shortcut to the O’Reilly Estate, throwing his shoulder into his door while Wynonna had to brace herself against the roof. The minutes ticked by, but soon they saw a house grow in the distance.

Just as they feared, there were a cluster of figures visible on a front porch shielded from the rain. A trio of aluminum buckets sat abandoned on the steps, an angry red dripping down their sides. An identical red was slathered across the front door and along some of the windows.

_Right about Thatcher, wrong about victim type._

Dolls did a quick headcount as the vehicle skidded to a stop in the gravel driveway.

_Three hostiles. One on lookout. One holding on to two hostages: children aged 7ish and 12ish. Third hostile, presumably Ulysses Thatcher, engaged with a victim (male, 30s) on the ground. Other victim (female, 30s) also on the ground, condition unknown, appears unresponsive._

His pistol was already pulled from his holster while Wynonna threw open her side door, Peacemaker in hand. Both BBD agents were greeted with a pummeling of icy rain soaking them to the bone in seconds.

As Dolls shouted a warning to the Thatcher boys, two heads swung to meet his. The cousins, Alfred and Aaron, growled out a challenge. Red eyes glinted in the waning sunlight.

The younger Thatcher on lookout, Alfred, charged to meet Dolls while Aaron turned his two hostages to face Wynonna. Peacemaker glowed orange in recognition of its quarry as she pointed the barrel. But the children made her hesitate.

Just as Alfred brushed off a bullet from Dolls, the Marshal saw a blur of movement in his peripheral vision. Between where Wynonna and Dolls were flanking the covered porch stairs, a figure in black surged out of the rain to tackle Ulysses. While the figure’s momentum was enough to carry forward to topple Ulysses to the ground, those long Revenant fingers (honed from several trips back to Hell) fought back with feral swipes.

Dolls wasn’t sure what the hell he was looking at. Revenants were one thing, but this …guy?... looked like he was going to a hipster rock concert.

_Male(?), 5’9”. Ripped jeans. Black hoodie decorated with a writhing snake screen print all up the arms to the chest. Face covered by a black bandana. …Swim goggles over eyes? What the hell?_

A booming shot rang out, reverberating with power. Alfred Thatcher in front of Dolls clawed at a fresh hole in his chest as hellfire sprang up around him. Dolls sprang past the Revenant as it was sucked back down to Hell, throwing a nod at Wynonna. The Earp Heir groaned in anger as Aaron Thatcher pushed the two O’Reilly children to the ground and scrabbled up the side of the house to escape Peacemaker.

“You can’t Spider-Man your way out of this, you piece of shit!” She cringed before waving at the two children. “Sorry, sorry. Adult language. Pretend you didn’t hear that.” Wynonna took off around the other side of the house to try and get a bead on Aaron.

Dolls pushed up the last few porch steps for a clean shot at Ulysses just as the Revenant threw off his attacker with a snarl. With a squeeze to the trigger, Dolls managed to strike Ulysses with three shots. Suddenly, the figure in black was at Dolls’ elbow to push off his aim. He thought he heard a muffled “Stop!”

Military instinct kicked in as Xavier swept his wrist out of his attacker’s grasp and returned with a quick punch to ( _its? his?)_ face. The punch connected with a satisfying thud, sending the man in black staggering backwards. Dolls attempted to empty his chamber into the flailing Revenant’s legs, but was again engaged by the intruder.

“I don’t have time for this.” Easily sweeping aside the man’s attempt at a bear-hug, Dolls thrust a palm at the figure’s solar plexus and finished with a Spartan kick to the chest. The multi-attack threw the figure off the porch into the gravel driveway. Loud gasping could be heard through the pattering rain.

_Stay down._

When Dolls turned back to the Revenant… he was gone. His two victims, the husband and wife O’Reillys, lay unmoving on the covered porch, their children huddled in fear on the opposite steps. Dolls’ eyes swept the porch, but with limited visibility… the Revenant could be anywhere. And Wynonna would be back any second and he would have to tell her they failed.

Something roiling and angry grew inside of Dolls. It needed an outlet. His eyes found the man in black and he strode towards him with purpose, shrugging off the chill of the rain.

“What did you **do?** ” Dolls shouted, holstering his weapon. He grabbed the man by his wet hood and hauled him to his feet. Dolls pulled back and aimed a punch for the man’s stupid bandana-and-goggle-covered face.

It should have been easy. Point blank. A punch with that much power should have knocked out any ordinary person.

But as Xavier’s knuckles grazed the man’s face… he couldn’t tell if everything was sped up or suddenly in slow-motion. The man shifted backward, flowing with the punch as though Dolls was just gently pushing him. The follow-up sweeping kick to the man’s legs had the same result: a slow-motion step over Dolls’ attack.

“What… the… **hell?!** ”

Blind rage—the kind he’d always warned Wynonna against in their sparring—gripped Dolls’ mind. He swung wildly, testing for any sort of weakness. And it wasn’t like this man—this **thing** —was too fast or even striking back. He just moved with Dolls’ every strike, flowing around him like water. Only when Dolls’ called out to Wynonna did his opponent fight back.

In a blink, the figure was at Dolls’ side and he felt a hand shove the center of his back to send him sprawling to the muddy ground. When Xavier pushed himself to his feet, he saw the figure back on the porch hovering over the male victim. All Dolls could see was a flurry of fists against the victim’s chest.

Pistol out, Dolls charged at the steps. But just as he aimed, he heard a shout behind him from Wynonna. In the split second it took for his eyes to glance over to Wynonna and back to the hooded figure… the man was gone.

“Dolls! They’re gone! That shit-heel Ulysses _—_ and his shit cousin Aaron _—_ both.” The Earp Heir stomped her way up the porch, shivering under the furred hood of her heavy coat. “And I can’t see shit in this rain! **…shit!** ” She saw the children again and stomped her foot again before mouthing to Dolls _, “…shit!”_

Red and blue lights appeared in the distance, their glow refracted by the steady icy rain. The faint wail of police and ambulance sirens followed. 

Dolls holstered his weapon to check on the parents. The children huddled around the body of their mother, their cries sad and small. But as Dolls approached the man, he heard gasping coughing. A pair of fingers found a weak pulse, but the man was alive.

He thought back to the flurry of fists from the man in black, positioned just over the O’Reilly father’s heart.

_Was that supposed to be… chest compressions?_

_Did it—he—save the man’s life?_

_What the hell is going on?_

The two BBD agents retreated to their SUV when Sheriff Nedley and the EMTs arrived on the scene. A few texts were exchanged with Jeremy and Waverly to regroup back at the BBD office for a new plan. Nicole offered to stay with the O'Reilly's at Northern Memorial as security detail in case the Thatchers tried to finish the job. 

“We were too late. Like always,” Wynonna whispered with a pained sigh. Her tired eyes stared at the flashing red and blue off the windshield droplets.

“Hey, **he** made it,” Dolls said softly, gesturing to the stretcher with Mr. O’Reilly.

“Barely.” She looked at Dolls. “Who the hell was that guy—oh shit…” Her eyes widened, and she bit her lower lip to suppress the f-word on her tongue.

Turning on the engine, Dolls maneuvered them back onto the main road through a few bumps and dips. “…What?”

Wynonna punched the dashboard. “Sonofabitch!”

“What?!” Dolls demanded.

“I’m pretty sure I saw red sneakers.”

He had to think of what she was referring, and Xavier’s eyes narrowed at the memory of a lazy smile in powder-blue scrubs. “…Bo.”

_Sonofabitch indeed._

* * *

Back at the municipal building, the former Black Badge Division crew shivered in their coats, water trailing all over the hardwood floor. Jeremy sat at his desk, his attention focused on the rope knot he was practicing. Dolls chewed on a damp cigar in his mouth. Waverly was on her phone, presumably with the absent Officer Haught.

Wynonna surged in through the glass door with an expletive as she dumped her wet coat onto a chair with Dolls at her heels. “We had them! All three of them! Three less Goddamn Revenants gunning for me and my Donut and they got away!”

Jeremy started to raise his hand to ask a question, but lowered it at Waverly’s quick headshake. Instead, Jeremy muttered, “…two of them. Two got away. Because one…” The scientist made an exploding noise out of the corner of his mouth, while his fingers wiggled to mimic flames.

“Not the **point** , Jeremy!”

Gripping a chair-back facing their wall of Revenant intel, Dolls sternly asked, “What did we miss? Why did they pick this family and not the others?" 

Suddenly, a man burst through the doors of the BBD office, followed by a series of clicking sounds as guns were drawn and cocked. Bolin Yushi was laughing wildly as he pulled his hoodie down and yanked off his goggles.

“Oh man, that was the craziest—Whoa— **ho** **—holy shit!**!” Bo exclaimed before jerking to a stop when he saw Wynonna, Doc, Dolls and Waverly all pointing guns at him. Bo’s hands immediately shot skyward, visibly trembling and soaking wet from the sleet. “Shit! Please! Please don’t kill me, man!!”

Where Bo’s snake-wrapped sleeves were too stretched out, visible scratches and burn marks could be seen along his wrists, Dolls noticed. He started running a mental catalog of potential demon matches.

_Werewolf? Vampire? Something fast… something primal… Skinwalker? Shapeshifter? …Or maybe some sort of Far East import spirit? Maybe something like…_

Scowling, Wynonna took a step closer to Bo. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn—“

“Wynonna!” Waverly hissed back, shotgun slowly lowering. She made a large nodding gesture with her head.

“Dammit, Waverly! I was trying to be all cool and authoritative for once and—“

Dolls saw what Waverly was referring. He made a military pointing motion with two quick fingers. “Wynonna.”

The Earp Heir made an irritated snorting noise until she registered what they were talking about.

Peacemaker.

Pointed at Bo.

With no glow of orange.

 ** _Not_** _a Revenant_.

“Oh **balls!** ” Wynonna growled as she holstered the weapon and kicked at the chair next to her. Everyone kept their (ordinary) guns trained on Bo, however.

Bo flashed a confused, sheepish grin. He waved the goggles in surrender.

“Soooo, uh… parley?”


	4. Doc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fourth Impression: Doc
> 
> Doc is none too impressed by the newest arrival: Dr. Bo Yushi, eager to help. Untrusting of Bo's motives, Doc (and Wynonna) aim to pursue the two remaining Revenants without interference. Revenants they can handle, but can they handle whatever the hell Bo is?

“A white handkerchief is a much more **traditional** opener when one parleys, son,” Doc Holliday gently admonished the intruder, though his pistol stayed trained at Bo’s head. 

An overwhelming sense of skepticism took root in Doc’s heart as he studied a fellow doctor. He found it hard to believe the epic fisticuffs Dolls described over the phone occurred between the hulking Deputy Marshal and this… _boy_. (Though there was a purpling bruise across the man’s cheek, so clearly Dolls had gotten in one good hit.)

Because for one thing, the young man was trembling. His dark eyes darted to each of their gun barrels in turn, genuinely fearful. For another thing, he didn’t seem to regard Wynonna Earp uwith any extra dread, as a Revenant or demon might ( _should_ ) in the presence of the Heir.

Doc could sniff out a good bluffer, but Bo? His confusion ( _and lack of intellect_ ) appeared authentic.

Something did not sit right with the gunslinger.

Holstering his weapon, Doc stepped closer. At Wynonna’s irritated tsk, he threw behind him, “I would search our would-be ally before any negotiations took place. Unless you object.”

When there was no response from Wynonna, Doc approached a Bo who remained rigidly in place, goggles in hand quivering. “I suggest you consent, unless you wish to test our dear Deputy Dolls’ temper or our dear Waverly’s aim. And at this particular range with that particular shotgun, I assure you: she requires only one shot.” He winked at Bo, who gave a shaky nod.

Doc slowly reached out to pat down Bo, starting with the bizarre hooded jacket the man wore. A design of writhing green snakes traced up the arms and down along the chest and back.

_This generations’s fashions leave much to be desired. Does no one value the tailoring of a fine suit anymore?_

Inside the hoodie pouch, Doc found: a half-dozen lollipops ( _“Tootsie-roll Pop?”_ ), a Farmer’s Almanac, a small plastic bag of oblong cigarettes and a cell phone. The back jeans pocket contained a wallet (with $40 Doc was tempted to confiscate) and a very old silver pocket watch. Bo also wore a black, single strap, shoulder backpack that contained several electronic implements Doc couldn’t hazard a guess at (which he quickly passed over to Jeremy, along with the goggles).

The craftsmanship of the pocket watch impressed Doc, though the silver was etched in a strange language. _Something from the Orient—er, that term is out of favor—China, possibly?_ But the clock’s hands were not the current time. It appeared to be running as a stopwatch, and if Doc was reading it right: a stopwatch that had been going for several hours.

 _Curious_.

Bo had been patient for the search, but seeing the pocket watch agitated him. “Hey… **hey!** That’s mine.” He started to reach for it, but his gaze shifted behind Doc and Bo softly reconsidered. “…Please. That’s mine.”

_Curiouser. …But not threatening. Yet._

Just as Doc returned the watch, suckers and wallet to its owner, Wynonna barked behind him, “Jeremy! What **is** that shit he’s carrying?”

The young scientist turned over the items in bewilderment. “Uhhh… junk, mostly.”

Bo squawked an indignant “Hey!”

“Well it is!” Jeremy held up each device in turn. “Standard swim goggles, look to have a polarized filter, real nice. This is a cattle prod… barely functioning. This looks like an EVP recorder… a—uh—scam way to record voices of ghosts. And is this… a replica of the Ghostbusters Muon Trap?” He sounded impressed as he turned over the small yellow-striped brick in his hands. “Anyway, **not** functioning.”

“Aw… really?” Bo’s hands lowered slightly, his nose wrinkled in disappointment. He kicked at the floor. “Man, and I imported that shit special for Big Mike cuz he said he had ghosts in his barn. I thought I was doin’ him a favor with a test drive.” He grinned at Jeremy. “You can have it if you want.”

“Really?!” Jeremy made an excited exhale-sound and started fiddling with the trap’s dials.

Wynonna kicked the chair again, spitting with each word. “What. The. **Shit**. Bo. Explain. **Now**.”

Those hands shot up a little straighter. “I’m sorry! I thought I could help!”

“What the **shit** do you think you’re helping?!”

“I thought y’all were, like, ghost hunters! Like X-Files shit! I just thought ‘Revenant’ was Suit Speak for ‘ghost!’” Bo paused, shivering a little. Water droplets streamed from his long, wet hair down his neck.

He tilted his head at Wynonna. “…Never took you for a government suit, though, Wy.” Bo’s expression turned serious, his voice hushed. “…Blink twice if you’re being held against your will.”

Wynonna shot him a tired, unwavering glare. “I’m just as surprised as you. And no, this is— **somehow** —a gig I tolerate by **choice**. …Some days are harder than others.” She scowled. “So ‘fess up, Bo. **Why** are you here?”

“I wanted to catch a ghost! Like I said!” Bo shivered again and waved his hands. “And can y’all put the guns down at least? I’m about five seconds from pissing my pants. Makes me nervous.” With one hand, he slowly reached into his hoodie pouch to pull out one of the Tootsie-roll Pops and picked at the red wrapper. He kept his arms awkwardly high, near his face, as a sort of compromise position from hands-in-the-air.

At Dolls’ begrudging nod, the rest of the BBD crew lowered their weapons. Bo sighed in relief as he tucked the round sucker into his mouth. He just then noticed his stretched sleeves and made a small motion to pull them over his palms.

Dolls kept a heavy presence: close to Bo with his hand very obviously on the hilt of his gun. Pushing up almost nose-to-nose with Bo, Dolls asked point-blank: “So. What **are** you?”

Doc’s mustache twitched in amusement at the power play. _One could not accuse Dolls of having too much subtlety._

Craning his head back slightly, Bo regarded the Deputy Marshal carefully. He smiled slowly, the white stick poking out of the corner of his mouth. “…You first.”

Dolls could only glare back. He scowled and walked with heavy footsteps back to the research wall. “We don’t have time for this. We need to figure out Thatcher’s next move.”

Wynonna interjected, her eyes narrowed. “Bo. You stopped me from killing Thatcher. Why?”

“I heard that guy—“ A point to Dolls. “—I heard him say the name Ulysses Thatcher at the Ferguson Farm. And I thought ‘this can’t be a coincidence, maybe it’s fate and maybe I can—I can…‘” Bo ground his teeth for a moment, uncertain what to say. “…you’ll think I’m crazy...”

After a poke to Bo’s side, Doc dug around in the plastic bag to sniff at the odd cigarettes. “I suggest you cooperate, son. And believe you me: we’ve heard stranger tales.”

_Did this century ruin cigarettes, too? Good lord._

Bo’s dark eyes shifted to Waverly. “Remember at Ferg’s farm? **You** said Thatcher got one more victim before Wyatt Earp took him down.” Bo was looking more and more agitated.

“So?” Wynonna asked with a terse, frustrated shrug.

“That ‘one more victim’ was my great-great-grandmother. You know what that did to my family? We went off the reservation after that. ‘Don’t trust anyone. Only rely on yourself. Yushis only.’ Our land became a ‘shoot on sight’ type deal.” Bo paused, crunching nervously on the sucker. “I don’t want it to **be** like that anymore, man.”

Flicking his thumbnail over a wooden match, Doc sparked the red head to a flame. He lit one of Bo’s “cigarettes” and gave it a puff. The smoke was **heavy** and **thick** and Doc coughed on the strange herb taste. But it **was** rather smooth, if lacking flavor…

Exhaling in disgust, Waverly grabbed the cigarette from him and put it out in a nearby soda can. She hissed, “ **Doc**! That’s **weed**!” then snatched the small baggie and threw it back at Bo. He greedily grabbed for it and tucked it back in his hoodie pouch with a sheepish grin.

The Heir leaned closer. “If it’s revenge you want, Bo: get in line. My literal job is to stop those things. Why’d you try to stop me, or Dolls, from killing him?”

“Because!” Bo exploded. “My grandmother! She’s… she’s still **around**. She’s something **else** … And I thought… if I could find and bring her Ulysses Thatcher—or his ghost or whatever—that she would—I dunno—calm down? Be at peace?”

Doc locked eyes with Wynonna and sighed. “…Revenant.”

_So… our boy has a vested interest in meddling. Dangerous indeed._

Bo flail-gestured at Jeremy, who was still holding the Ghostbusters trap. “I dunno how any of this shit **works** , man! I just had to **try** , okay?!” He locked eyes with Doc, hoping for support. “’Make hay while the sun shines,’ amiright?”

_And is also an eavesdropper. … **Very** dangerous._

Nudging Waverly over to Bo, Wynonna gave a wide head nod to Dolls and Doc. Team BBD (and Doc) huddled up over near Jeremy to discuss their options while Waverly distracted Bo.

Doc was the first to ask, “What do y’all think?”

“I think there’s more he’s not telling us,” Dolls scowled. _You usually do._ “…and I think he’s gonna be a liability. He already got in the way once. Someone could get hurt next time.”

Wynonna chewed her cheek as she watched the young veterinarian talk to her sister. “I dunno… I **agree** , but… he saved that guy’s **life** , Dolls. I know I was about ready to bail and give chase… and those kids almost lost two parents tonight instead of one.” Frowning darkly, Wynonna rubbed a hand over her belly.

Dolls crossed his arms. “And you heard his story about his grandmother, right? If it’s true, she’s probably a Revenant, too. You think he’s gonna just let us walk onto his land and send her back to hell?”

“I must agree with Dolls on this one, Wynonna,” Doc said, his eyes trained on the outsider. A scheme began to form in his mind. “Perhaps we can… relocate him. Make him feel useful while our dear Earp Heir does her good work.” When Dolls started to interject, Doc continued, “You yourself suspect darker things at play, do you not, Dolls? This plot could doubly serve to test his… authenticity.” He hissed out that last work with a pull to his cheek.

Nodding, Wynonna slapped Dolls on the shoulder. “He’s right. And you’re the one who said he’s all freaky-supernatural. Not that I don’t believe you, but…” She also shot a glance back over her shoulder. “…but Peacemaker doesn’t lie. So, if he’s got something to hide, whatever it is: he’s not **evil** at least. Or **our** kind of evil, anyway.”

The Deputy Marshal scowled, but gave a low “hmph” in assent.

They all moseyed behind Jeremy together, where the young scientist kept throwing curious looks at Bo while he typed at his computer. A brief conversation with Waverly floated by.  

“Aw man, Wavey. This shit is **intense**. You do this every day?”

“Pretty much,” Waverly shrugged. “You get used to it. …Sadly.”

Bo crunched on his sucker, the white stick angling around his mouth. He rubbed at his wrists. “And there’s **more** like ‘im? Man, I spent a year just trying to find evidence I wasn’t crazy and that just **Thatcher** was still around. …I **knew** I wasn’t crazy when I kept seeing him pop up every couple decades.”

He showed her his cell phone photo library, his finger swiping over grainy photos of a leering Ulysses Thatcher with known Revenants. Grainy sepia-tone images transitioned to color, as fashions changed but Thatcher (nor his cousins) appeared to age.

Waverly sighed. “ **Lots** more like Thatcher, unfortunately. That’s what we do: put ‘em down back where they belong.” She gestured at Wynonna.

“That’s **crazy**. …you think Wynonna can help me with my grandma?” More rubbing at his wrists. Bo sighed. “…Ma would **kill** me if she knew I’d told someone about great-grandma Lihwa. She said _lao lao_ paid the price of trusting the people of Purgatory.”

“Trust me, Bo. Wynonna can help,” Waverly replied warmly. “She’s gotten pretty darn good at it.”

Bo let out a long, deep breath. His nerves seemed to have calmed. Grinning at Waverly, he asked, “Oh hey, are you and the cop together?”

“Nicole? Yea, she’s my girlfriend!” Waverly chirped with pride.

“Awesome! Saw her rad cat this morning… And Nicole seems cool, too,” Bo said with a friendly pat to Waverly’s shoulder. “Welcome to the club, Wavey!” He offered a high-five, which Waverly returned with an awkward laugh.

_“Club?”_

On the other side of the office, Jeremy brought up a bunch of screens on his computer that Doc had trouble interpreting. Jeremy pointed at a pair of spreadsheets. “So, I was cross-referencing the O’Reilly Estate with records of Thatcher and… we really missed the mark on **that** one.”

Setting her jaw, Wynonna elbowed Jeremy’s shoulder hard. “You don’t **say**.”

The young man grunted, but gave a few emphatic head-nods. “Ow! …Okay, so it looks like Thatcher is still settling grudges from like… a hundred years ago. The O’Reilly’s are third generation Purgatory, but they displaced Thatcher’s second-cousin Morris when Morris went bankrupt in the 1920s.” His finger tapped at scan of a very old, overdue bank note.

Wynonna snorted. “So, Thatcher is getting revenge from the old days before he moves on to fresher prey? **God** , what a squishy ego. Sure we don’t need to put a protective detail on any prostitutes’ descendants who said he had a little dick?”

Eyes widening, Jeremy started a fresh search. Wynonna put her hand over his mouse-hand. “I was kidding… mostly.” She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “…Do we have a potential victim pool or something? I doubt he’s gonna wait long to strike again, since we stopped him last time. Hopefully, he’ll be slowed down going on foot.” She shot a panicked look at Dolls.

The Deputy Marshal’s voice was low. “Had the Sheriff’s Department impound the truck left at the scene. Next farm is three miles away. We bought some time, but I don’t know how much.” His hand crept to Wynonna’s shoulder and gave a squeeze.

Doc found himself craving bourbon. _That’s how we used to do it, eh Wyatt? A little hair of the dog before the chase began?_

“I have a few options, but you’re not gonna like it,” Jeremy started with an apologetic wince. “The Murphys’ are in the old Thatcher Ranch, which changed hands a few times over the years. Last couple that was there met a grisly end back in the 70s. And there’s a couple other farms linked to his cousins, all with families there. …Purgatory sure is a nice, family-friendly town.”

“Yea, it’s a real peach,” Wynonna quipped. “’Til someone throws goat blood on your door and tries to strangle you.”

They clustered their heads together. Doc quietly suggested a feint for drawing Bo away while simultaneously pursuing their own agenda. Dolls was on board while Wynonna was reluctant (but agreed to its necessity).

As tasks were divided up, Doc kept a close eye on Bo. At Wynonna’s nod, Doc took the young man aside. His arm draped lazily over Bo’s shoulder as Doc herded the man over to Jeremy’s computer.

“So, boy. You say you want to help? What do you have to offer?”

Confused but pleased, Bo scratched at his neck. “Uh, I mean… You guys took my cattle prod. Otherwise, I took, like, some kung fu lessons while I was an undergrad in China?”

Jeremy made an impressed exhaling sound, his lips pursed in an O-shape. “Really?? Did you like—“ He made a few jerking hand-cutting motions. “—train on a mountain top in the fog and stuff?”

A guttural laugh from Bo. “I **wish!!** I asked them, like, a **million** times when I was gonna get my montage by a river or something.” He snorted and stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets. “It was mostly a lot of breathing drills and ‘center yourself.’ I guess they save the mountain training for the super ninjas.”

Perking up, Bo snapped his fingers. “Oh! I’m pretty stealthy, too! And fast! I could, like, scout ahead and report back!” He pulled his hood over his head and the neck-bandana over his face in demonstration.

Jeremy nodded enthusiastically while Doc narrowed his eyes. _Lord, give me the strength._

“Very well, perhaps we can utilize your ‘scouting’ assistance. Jeremy, would you show Bo—on this fine contraption—“ Doc patted the top of the laptop. “—the promising location of our Revenants? The Duquette Farm where the Thatcher cousin Aaron once resided?”

The scientist nodded as his fingers tapped away at the keyboard. An address flashed on the screen which Bo plugged into his cell phone.

“We are re-attempting to divide and conquer,” Doc continued. “Wynonna and I will be pursuing one location, Dolls and Waverly a second, you are tasked with the third. Can you handle that, son?”

Bo grinned and nodded before flexing a pair of fists. “Awesome! My first mission! Is there like a radio? Do we get call-signs? Can I be, like—”

“No call signs,” Dolls growled back from across the room.

Waverly shot Bo an apologetic frown. She stage-whispered, “Dolls **hates** them.” At Dolls’ withering glare, Waverly stuck her tongue out at him.

Jeremy cleared his throat. “Can I—uh—get your number? So I can… keep an eye on things from here?” His smile tightened as his cheeks darkened slightly.

_…Curious._

Bo didn’t seem to notice and wrote down 10 digits on a post-it on Jeremy’s desk. He slapped the scientist on the back. “Hell yea, Oracle!” He paused, considering the reference. “Oh wait, Oracle was a chick. …Like, **Reed Richards** , man! Or— **or** —JARVIS!” He offered his fist which Jeremy bumped back with a laugh.

“Best hop to it. Time is of the essence,” Doc interrupted as he cuffed Bo’s shoulder.

With a grin, Bo held up his phone. “Awesome! I’ll call you guys if I see anything! …is there like a Plan B? A rendezvous point or something?”

Wynonna made an impatient shooing motion at the man. “Regroup back here in an hour if no one spots anything.”

Bo clapped his hands together before grabbing his swim goggles off the table next to Jeremy. When he reached for his backpack with the cattle prod, Dolls stepped in and shook his head imposingly. Backing away, Bo held up his hands in mock-surrender again before disappearing down the hallway.

Doc stood at the window, waiting to see where Bo went off to. His gut was strangely quiet on the matter. He wasn’t sure about the man and the uncertainty rankled him.

A few moments later, a dark shadow scurried outward from the door below. A man in a hoodie carefully stepped into the middle of the street, a faint square of light indicating his phone was out. He approached a pair of vehicles parked on the opposite side of the street still holding his phone.

_Step one commencing: track the man’s vehicle for comings and goings._

As Doc leaned forward, he blinked… and Bo was gone. Both cars remained parked on the street.

_What in tarnation?_

Disbelieving, Doc quickly strong-armed the window open so he could stick his head out for a better look. The sleet pattered against his hat as he craned his neck left and right to look down the street. Not a sign of anyone.

_I do hate it when Dolls is correct._

He felt a slap on his shoulder as Wynonna barked, “Hey! Doc! Get your ass in gear!” Doc pulled back inside and readjusted his hat as Wynonna threw a thumb behind her. “We gotta get to the Murphys’ off Sawyer ASAP! I am not letting this shit-nugget get away again. I’ve got a bullet with his name on it! And… one for his stupid cousin. Two bullets. …Shit.” She patted Peacemaker at her hip. “…You know what I mean.”

“Indeed,” Doc agreed before closing the window, though he could have sworn he saw a shadow just outside.

_Hmmmm._

* * *

They bumped along in Wynonna’s truck, the sleet a dull roar against the roof. The Heir was tense, her tired eyes staring at the road. The cab smelled of burnt coffee as empty travel cups rolled around on the floor.

Doc was keeping his eyes trained elsewhere, skimming the treeline as best he could through the truck’s bouncing headlights.

A radio sitting in the center cup holder crackled to life. Jeremy stuttered out, [“So, uh, guys? Something weird. Ov—over.”]

Scooping up the chunk of plastic, it took Doc a moment to remember how to respond on the device. Wynonna sighed next to him and grabbed the radio out of his hand. She clicked the side button. “Weird how, Jeremy? We’re almost to the Murphy-Thatcher-Potential Shitshow Farm.”

[“And we’re right behind you.”] Dolls crackled in agreement. His SUV with Waverly was trailing about 30 seconds behind Wynonna’s truck.

[“Uh, Bo just called in. He’s at the Duquette place. Said he did a full sweep. No sign of anyone.”]

Wynonna shot Doc a confused leer. She clicked the button again. “How is that weird? Isn’t that where we told him to go to keep him outta the way?”

[“Uh, no—yea… That’s the right place. It’s just—“]

[“It’s just **what** , Jeremy?”] An impatient bark from Dolls on the other end (followed by a tsking sound from Waverly).

[“It’s just that… the Duquette place is on the other side of the Ghost River Triangle? Like, a good 40 minutes away?”]

“So?” Wynonna asked.

[“Uh, it’s been like 20 minutes. 21 minutes and 36 seconds, actually…”]

“So he’s lying,” Wynonna interjected into the radio. She slammed her hands against the wheel as she shot a scowl at Doc. Aside, she said to him, “Man, I thought he was one of the good ones. …Figures.”

_Hmm… That might complicate things…_

[“He’s… not lying. I just tracked his cell signal and crossed it with the local cell towers. He’s… on top of the Duquette place. And Doc said he went on foot.”]

“What. The. **Fuck** ,” Wynonna said into the radio.

_That will most **certainly** complicate things._

Jeremy sounded baffled. [“Uh, yea. He’s asking what he should do? ‘Check out another location’ or something?”]

A gruff response from Dolls. [“No. Tell him to stay there and wait.”]

[“Okay, if you say so. What if he starts asking where you guys are?”]

“Then you **lie** , Jeremy. This is some weird shit that we have to deal with **later** , okay?” Wynonna growled into the device before sighing. “But… thanks for the update. We’ll stay on alert.”

[“You got it!”] Jeremy chirped before the radio went silent.

When Wynonna gave an overdramatic sigh, Doc leaned over. “We shall get to the bottom of this.”

Chewing his lower lip, Doc tried to assess the potential threat while they continued on to their destination.

 _The boy has a clear lack of intellect or self-awareness._ Doc wasn’t sure which.

_Perhaps it is a bluff? A guise to lower the guard of those around him? A truly mischievous spirit would press that to its advantage. I certainly would were **I** so gifted—or cursed._

_But what sort of spirit bruises? And does not draw the attention of Peacemaker?_

Doc scowled and shook his head. _…That is Dolls’ area of expertise. Or Waverly’s._

_A spirit that bruises is one that can bleed. And hopefully be put down should the situation become necessary. And that is all I require._

A few minutes later, Jeremy reported that Bo’s signal was on the move. [“I think something’s wrong with my computer, because it is fast. **Crazy** fast.”]

Wynonna pulled up the radio again with a click. “What did you say to him, Jeremy?”

A defensive squawk on the other end. [“Nothing! He called again asking what he should do, and I told him to sit tight! Just like you said! We started to talk about comic books—he really knows a lot about Marvel!—but then he asked how you guys were doing and I said you were still on your way and he said he was gonna go help and—“]

“Jeremy!” Interrupting, Wynonna glared at the road. “…Where’s he headed?”

[“Towards you guys.”]

The Heir’s face contorted in a deep scowl. “Shit shit shit **shit**. How long?”

[“I dunno, a couple minutes? It’s really hard to tell. If my calculations are right, Bo is going a little over half the speed of sound? Whaaaaat?!”]

“Shit. Awesome. Thanks, Jeremy. Keep us posted.” Signing off the radio call, Wynonna glanced over at Doc. Her fingertips drummed on the steering wheel. “ **Shit**. We better take care of this quick… so we can figure out what **else** we’re dealing with.”

Another moment passed in silence as the treeline started to thin. The navigation on Wynonna’s phone chimed that they were nearing their destination.

As part of his ritual, Doc checked the pair of pistols at his belt. He spun the cylinders, examined the full chambers, and primed the hammers before clicking them back to a resting position. Perfect working condition.

“God, first Revenants, then demons, then whatever the **shit** Bo is. I’d really like **one** case in Purgatory to be simple. Like solve a dine and dash at a restaurant or something,” Wynonna whined as she puffed a breath at an errant strand of hair.

Doc teased as he tugged at his moustache. “Perhaps our good Officer Haught will recruit you in joining the Sheriff’s department?”

Wynonna shot him a withering scowl back. “Ugh. Those uniforms. Those **hours**. And a boss more serious than Dolls?” Her head shook. “…never mind. I take back everything I just said. Creepy Curse Life is the only life for me.” She did rub a hand thoughtfully over her pregnant belly.

Doc wheezed out a chuckle through his nose. His eyes widened when he spied light in the distance. A wide ranch house could be seen through the sleet, its porch lighting twinkling in a halo on the windshield.

Jeremy’s deduction had been correct. Wynonna’s truck passed by a dead goat as it swerved onto the property, the front gate already wide open.

“Shit! I hope we’re not too late again!” The Heir swore as she pulled her heavy, fur-lined jacket hood over her head.

Up ahead outside in the rain, a family of three were huddled on their knees. Their blue front door had a big blob of red spackled on the front, an overturned bucket sitting menacingly on the porch steps. Ulysses Thatcher appeared to be mid-sermon in the front garden while his cousin Aaron genuflected while also positioned to block any escape from the house.

They were unfamiliar Revenants to Doc’s eyes. Neither of them had been part of Bobo’s gang once upon a time. Ulysses Thatcher was an imposing figure of a man, his fingers gnarled with length and his face lined in a deep scowl. Aaron Thatcher was a round, scruffy man who probably was not frequented by many fine ladies back in the day. His wall-eyed expression was a little vacant and a lot dangerous.

“I don’t see a vehicle. Dolls and Waverly are just behind to cut off any manner of retreat,” Doc advised. As they pulled up, he tipped his hat at Wynonna’s gun in respect. “I shall flank and attempt to subdue Ulysses.”

Wynonna nodded and said, “Yea, I want that shit-stain Aaron first. He’s not spidering his way out of here again.”

They pulled up to the circular driveway and jumped out together. Fanning out, Doc approached Ulysses from the west while Wynonna strutted towards Aaron on the east side. The sleet was a low roar in Doc’s ears, soaking his duster through in seconds. But his wide-brimmed hat offered some protection and visibility in the downpour, one hand readied close to a pistol.

The air smelled thick of that familiar iron-copper blood smell combined with earthy mud and a faint fresh grass scent of the first hints of spring.

The Revenants’ backs were to the road and the family was too terrified to look at anything other than the ground. The icy rain made the Thatchers’ presence all the more creepy, long hair slicked down against their heads. A cold voice rang out from the garden as they approached.

“You meddle in God’s work, Earp.” Ulysses turned and pointed an accusing finger at Wynonna. “Just like ya granddaddy before ya. Why don’t you—and that miserable sinner Holliday—go reflect on ya own sins?” He flashed a rotted, toothy grin as rain dripped down his lips.

The Heir gave an explosive, disapproving sigh. “I really hate it when nasty-ass hypocrites try tellin’ me what to do.” Wynonna shot the Revenant a patronizing glare. “Newsflash, U: God thinks you’re a piece of shit. That’s why you’re here getting killed by Earps every other decade. Or did you think good people went to Hell?”

Ulysses started again, his hands raised high in reverence. “God is just waiting for us to cleanse His land of sin and filth. Then we’ll return to the promised land and—“

A booming gunshot silenced the man as Aaron Thatcher shrieked in agony. Yanked to the earth, Aaron clawed at the mud as the sleet did nothing to quench the burning flames surrounding him. He was pulled into the ground and disappeared a moment later.

There was a secondary pop of gunfire. The Murphys recoiled and pulled back to the porch steps, but Ulysses intercepted them and grabbed the mother by the throat. He positioned the woman between himself and Peacemaker, gnarled fingers tracing threateningly along her collarbone.

Doc chewed his moustache, irritated that he wasn’t able to get off a better shot before the remaining Thatcher made a move. His quick eyes had noted Ulysses’ slowness, undoubtedly still recovering from Dolls’ assault earlier. Even Revenants didn’t heal that quickly. But the knee-shot hadn’t had the effect Doc was hoping for. Apparently, the old man was more resilient than he looked.

Both Doc and Wynonna had their revolvers pointed at Ulysses, but neither had a clean shot. Peacemaker glowed orange, hungry for its prey. The Murphy father had scrabbled a short distance away holding a 7-year-old girl behind his back, loud pleas streaming under his breath. The Revenant only smirked, his eyes red as coals.

Bouncing headlights appeared a few seconds later as Dolls and Waverly pulled up. The Deputy Marshall aligned himself around the corner of the house to cut off the last means of escape. Waverly held a shotgun, but her weapon was lowered as she gestured at the Murphy father to come to her for safety.

“So… what’s it gonna be, U?” Wynonna asked. Sleet bounced off her fur lined hood.

“I will cleanse Purgatory of its disease,” Ulysses drawled back. Long fingers tightened around the woman’s neck and she gasped a strangled breath. “Filthy locusts. Descending on our shores from foreign lands. They thought they were worthy of **my** land?”

The little girl cried out “Momma!” before her father pushed them both backward towards Waverly.

 _I do believe we have ourselves a stand-off,_ Doc thought.

A radio crackled on Waverly’s hip. It sounded like Jeremy’s voice, but with the pounding rain it was impossible to make out.

Out of the corner of his eye, Doc spied what looked like a black shadow circling around the driveway. It was almost too fast to properly see. There was a glint of light for just a fraction of a second off two dark eyes.

_No. Not eyes._

**_Goggles_ ** _._

_What in tarnation?_

That black shadow streamed towards Thatcher in between him and the woman. With force, the two figures were shoved apart, Thatcher backward and the woman forward. Rain splattered in all directions in a forceful wave. In the now-vacant space between them stood a lanky male figure in a black hoodie.

“ **Not** cool, Wynonna. I even gave you guys the benefit of the doubt and everything, and you frickin’ **ditched** me,” Bo scowled, his voice muffled under the bandana. “I said I wanted to **help** , man. Not cool at **all**.”

The Murphy mother, no longer captive, crawled towards Waverly and her family in the mud.

Ulysses Thatcher crouched on his knees, hissing as he touched at growing collection of bullet holes in his undead flesh. He glared at the newcomer while also eyeballing an escape. Doc tsked out a rebuttal, his own gun trained on the Revenant on the ground.

“Bo,” Wynonna warned as she gestured with the long barrel of Peacemaker (that no longer glowed orange). “Thank you. Now… Step aside. Let me do my thing.”

Bo hunkered in Wynonna’s way, shielding her aim from the Revenant on the ground.

Dolls echoed Wynonna’s warning. Sleet pinged off his pistol with a sharp metallic sound. “Stand down, Bo. I’m only asking once.”

Offended, Bo pulled down the black bandana from his face. “Seriously?! Just gimme a **chance**! I said I wanted him alive! For like five minutes! What the **hell?”**

“We have a job to do and you’re interfering. **Final** warning,” Dolls growled back. His weapon raised to around Bo’s thigh, the threat evident in his posture.

Bo sighed and started to raise his hands… and suddenly he wasn’t there anymore. A second later, Dolls was shoved from behind face-first into the wet ground. Bo kicked the man’s gun away. It spiraled off somewhere in the low garden, buried under mud and ice.

“You need to **relax** , man. And put that thing **away**.”

Following suit, Doc and Wynonna now trained their guns on Bo. Waverly had shooed the Murphy family to their car, her shotgun now raised protectively at Ulysses. The young woman’s face under her own fur hood was crinkled with confusion as she glanced between the Revenant and Bo.

With a roll, Dolls pushed himself onto his back to glare up at Bo. But he held up his hands in surrender, in respect.

Doc’s eyes followed Bo closely. His quick, gunslinger reflexes were his trademark and he focused intently on the man. Unbound by Deputy Dolls’ moral compass, Doc was ready to put Bo down in the **ground** if he continued to get in the way.

Bo hovered over Dolls on the ground, chewing his lip as rain streamed down his face. Reaching into his back pocket, a flash of silver caught Doc’s eye. Checking his silver pocket watch, Bo shook his head at all of them. “I’ve had to run ahead of schedule to find you guys. Ma is gonna **kill** me.” He snapped the watch closed and tucked it away. “ **Not** cool. **Really** not cool.”

Doc made a hissing sound at Wynonna to draw her attention. Blue eyes met his and Doc slowly turned his gaze to the Revenant on the ground.

_Do your job, Earp. Then we deal with the newcomer._

A very small nod of acknowledgment from Wynonna. At Doc’s answering nod, both of them sprang into action.

The Heir swung her revolved around. Doc pulled his pistol on Bo. They fired almost in perfect sync: she at the Revenant, Doc at Bo’s chest.

_Sorry, son. You were warned._

Both guns exhaled gunpowder as bullets exited their barrels.

There it was. That slow-down feeling Dolls had described.

The air got thick. Heavy. Almost like something was pushing everything down. Doc and Wynonna both staggered from the weight.

Bo’s head tilted at the sound. His hand was outstretched. The man’s body twisted, flowed, turned. Just enough. A bullet struck the side of the house behind Bo. Wood splintered at the impact.

Doc’s eyes followed Wynonna’s target. The Peacemaker bullet was hazy. Ulysses’s face contorted in an unholy shriek. Coal-red eyes burned with hate. Then confusion. The Revenant was pushed aside. A scar of ugly red scratched down his temple. The magic bullet struck the muddy ground with a piff.

And then everything went back to normal. Ulysses roared in pain as he clutched his face. The rain continued pounding around them. Wynonna blinked and stared at her gun in confusion. In the commotion, the Deputy Marshall had rolled aside to the garden. His eyes scanned the foliage for his fallen weapon, but he made no move to retrieve it.

“Holy **shit** , dude!! I’m not even armed!” Bo shouted as he defensively cringed. He held up his open palms for effect.

Doc shrugged with disdain. A moment later, Bo stood up straight and stared straight at Doc. His lips upturned to a playful grin.

_If you aim to unsettle me, **boy** , you’ll have to try far harder._

Bo tilted his head in regard. “You’re on **my** turf, man. And you’re kinda being a dick.”

And then Bo flexed his fingers.

Searing pain lanced through Doc’s hand. The stab of a thousand icy needles dug into his flesh. Hissing through his teeth, Doc recoiled and shook the gun away. It clattered harmlessly in the mud.

Examining the hand, the flesh was mottled with blue dots. Bruised, broken capillaries spidered from the fingertips to the wrist. Doc shook it out, but the hand throbbed.

_Very well. I am perhaps a touch unsettled._

_…what **are** you, boy?_

Glancing over at Wynonna, Bo gave a shrug. “So… are you guys done? Can we, like, talk again? Cuz I could really use a smoke.”

He reached into his hoodie pouch and pulled out the familiar plastic baggie with oblong not-cigarettes. Bo waved the bag at Waverly then Wynonna. He made no such gesture at Doc or Dolls.

“Anyone got a light?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I got distracted by my other WayHaught series and NaNoWriMo last month. Plus my other fandom: Mass Effect.
> 
> Tune in next time for Fifth Impression: Wynonna and how she handles a non-Revenant problem and a deal too good to pass up.


End file.
